LETTING GO OF HIS HAND
There I stood releasing his tiny hand from inside of mine, watching those foot-
steps go off into a new world. Instantly I felt the end of a chapter. I fought back
the tears, as to appear brave for my little soldier. Bitter-sweet tears were flooding my
insides as I watched him wave that tiny hand to say good-bye. His expressions
held the courage of a soldier, with the look of question marks in his eyes.
I knew it was a good-bye to yesterday, to what was, and never will be again.
A good-bye to this little man who was my whole world, from moment to
exhausting moment. It was an end to what I believe was this child, who was
teaching me, more than I was teaching him. It was never more definite as in that
I clung to this role of motherhood for five years, I isolated myself from the world,
and my problems. I focused every ounce of my being into this little person. The
roller coasters of love, frustration, exhaution, and an endless love that can never
be fully understood through mere words. Watching him let go of a little piece of
this priceless bond, stirred up feelings and emotions of confusion.
I felt a sense of relief to rediscover the loss of freedom, a mother must
sacrifice, then I felt a stab of guilt, for feeling that same sense of relief. This
endless--endless journey of mother and child--I breath in-and-out, in-and-out.
Even holding my breath for a moment will never end this need to protect this
God-Given gift of flesh and blood.
I finally let myself whisper to my heart, "Let Go," and he glances back one
more time, as his new teacher takes his hand. She began to guide him away
from yesterday, I began walking away, and heading towards tommorrow,
with tearful joy and sorrow dwelling up inside of my eyes. I will keep the
memories and visions locked inside. I will always have them inside to
remember these precious times, of watching this tiny angel each day learn
how to open his wings, and fly away, until he can go it alone.
Fly my little angel, go share the love, and happiness that you've given me
each day--with the world. Let them feel what I felt everyday. I believed on the
ride home that I had it all together. I was so proud of how brave he was, he
did not even shed a tear. He looked so cute walking away with that little
spider-man pack attached to his back. Giving me a vision of what a strong
man he will become.
The togetherness I thought I had accomplished--It's silence suddenly fell
apart when I entered the front door. This silence I that I craved to have over
the years was instantly a sound of bitter-sweet loneliness. As I looked across
my empty house, I realized all of the noisy confusion, the dirty footprints on
shiny floors, the messy fingerprints on glass doors, and the constant voices
calling out--"MAMA" is what made the house a home. This was what made
me inside the house-a place to call home.
Letting go of that hand was the hardest thing I ever had to do. Today, two
new journeys began from the moment I let go of his hand.
PLEASE ENCOURAGE AUTHOR,
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